


I don't deserve you.

by Readingfanfics



Series: Practice Stories [47]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Not Happy, greg is kind, season 4, sherlock is lost and broken
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-16 01:00:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9266738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Readingfanfics/pseuds/Readingfanfics
Summary: Sherlock goes to Lestrade for some comfort.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just something I wrote after I saw episode 2 today.

He still startles away at night. Shivering, sweat streaming down his face, mixed with tears. Everything still hurts, everything still aches and stings. His hand goes to his injuries, flinching with every one he finds.

 

“ _I killed his wife.”_

 

“ _Yes, you did.”_

 

Sherlock feels his heart shrink,his hands shaking as he gets out of bed. It's all too small here, too tights, he needs to leave.

 

He groans as he walks to the livingroom, finding his coat, pocketing his phone before slowly, carefully,taking the stairs down. His heart is beating too fast, his hands still shaking and everything still hurts.

 

It's been hours, or days, and it still hurts. John's rage, feeling the coldness of the floor, that hardness of the wall, John's rage, rage and hurt. Rage and helplessness. John's skin connecting with his, touching him, finally, after so long.

 

_No! NO! NO! NO!_

 

He's finally there, soft light peaking out through the window and his heart slows down. Maybe here he'll find some peace?

 

His hand still shakes as he rings the doorbell, waits for an eternity, hearing the heavy steps and knowing it's been a rough day. Maybe not the best time to come?

 

He's about to turn and leave when the door opens, soft brown eyes finding his, quickly turning into concern.

 

“Sherlock? Sherlock! What the hell happened?!”

 

Tension leaves his body as he steps inside, taking in the room, smelling the leftovers, the low sound of a TV show, the warmth of the fire.

 

“Sit down Sherlock, or maybe you should lie down?”

 

Sherlock shakes his head slowly, wanting to cry at the show of kindness, of care.

 

“It's fine Lestrade, I can sit.”

 

He winches anyway and hears Greg gasp for breath. He knows it doesn't look good. Well, it isn't good. But he deserves it.

 

“What happened Sherlock? Who did this?”

 

Greg sits down on the other end, slowly to not make the sofa move too much and Sherlock wants to cry again. _He's too kind for me._

 

“John.”

 

It's like a stab in the heart,saying it out loud. Another kick in his stomach, another broken rib. It's hard to breath again, to focus. Warm hands on his face, gentle, making him look up and stare into those caring eyes. It's almost too much. _I don't deserve this._

 

“What don't you deserve?”

 

Sherlock blinks, trying to shake his head no. Not important, not now.

 

“Sherlock? John did this? But why?”

 

Disbelief, anger, hate. All for fleeting moments, so clear to see. Greg's hands are still on his face, making him warm. Tears start to fall finally and he sees Greg's eyes go wider before going sad. So sad.

 

“God Sherlock.”

 

And then it's just warmth and comfort and home as Greg holds him, letting him cry, not asking anything from him but letting him break down.

 

He doesn't deserve it.

 

 

 


End file.
